


To The Dungeons With You

by Kosho



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anders Being Anders, Blackmail, Jealous Solas, M/M, Solas Being Solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:30:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9491039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: This is for Gwyn Rogers-Stark <3The princess gets what she desires ^^~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HisAsgardianAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisAsgardianAngel/gifts).



> This is for Gwyn Rogers-Stark <3 
> 
> The princess gets what she desires ^^~

How often was she warned to stay away from Skyhold’s most dangerous prisoner? Cullen had gone blue in the face warning her away from people in the past, and usually, she heeded his lectures. This time, however, she had insisted on seeing him. Solas couldn’t imagine what might make her curious enough to  _ want _ to see him for herself, especially when her new plans meant cancelling the outing they had planned. Yet, it was only the beginning, and he had no foresight that her curiosity would drag him into it as well. 

 

* * *

 

 

Solas stood in the doorway, watching her in silence. Her brief conversations had slowly grown longer, and gone beyond just talking. She now insisted on taking care of him personally, she brought his meals, brushed his hair, everything shy of bathing him. Lavellan was a generous, caring soul, sure, but there was a fine line between caring and being used, and he was beginning to suspect she had long since tumbled over that line head first without realizing it. He wanted to know what it was he was doing to her, what kept her coming back to see him, what delayed her judgment of the man. In the past, prisoners they had captured were lucky to be in the cells a full day before she summoned them to be dealt with. The mage had been there over a month already, with no end in sight. 

 

Her hands reached between the bars, combing the tangles from his hair, as gentle as she could. From this far, he couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but they were laughing, were the bars not in the way, it could almost be said that they were getting unusually close. Was it that he was actually jealous? Somehow bothered that his lover was preoccupied with him? He couldn’t explain the need to know, but there was clearly only one way he would get any answers on the matter. He stood tall, walking towards her with a smile, mentally preparing what he would say. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, her gaze turning to him, and he was hit with the realization it had been awhile since she looked at him like that. 

 

“Inquisitor, I believe there was a matter that required your attention in the hall.” he told her. 

 

“Ah! Right, I’m on it!” she said. “I’m sorry, Anders, I’ll come back later.” 

 

He waved her off, Solas moving out of the way as she dashed back out. He said nothing, watching her disappear, until a different voice called his attention back. Even bound as he was, there was no doubt he was still a danger, his eyes glowing intensely. 

 

“There was no business, was there?” he asked. “Tell me, does she know what you really are?” 

 

Solas eyed him with suspicion, about to question the meaning behind the simple question. It occurred to him that the stories said he was an abomination of sorts, sharing his body with a spirit. While it was possible whatever was still human about him had no understanding of those words, the spirit inside might have been able to sense there was more to him than the simple apostate he had veiled himself as. He thought better of answering that particular subject in any way, until he carried on. 

 

“Such a selfless girl, she speaks of you often. Trusts you implicitly, loves you, I would dare say. How would she feel if she knew that you were lying to her, elf?” he asked. 

 

“What would you know of it?” he wondered. “Our relationship is hardly your concern.” 

 

The glow faded away, an almost smug grin on the man’s face. “She’s made it my concern. I am not the one telling her to come back, she comes on her own, keeps me company because she chooses to. Confides in me of her own volition, perhaps she  _ should _ know the truth.”

 

Solas frowned, a hand curling around the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. “What’s to stop me from convincing her to render her judgment. I could simply tell her that it’s time to wash her hands of you. Your threat is weak.” 

 

Anders leaned back against the wall, quite the feat considering just how difficult it was to move with all the precautions taken against him. He shook his head in an attempt to toss his hair over his shoulder and out of his face. He could see the appeal, at least physically. He knew very little of the elven man, save for what the Inquisitor had shared of him. Even with the loose shirt he wore, he could see traces of defined muscle. He had seen the look he favored her with, a kind expression that seemed at odds with the fierce visage he was saving for him. Protective, handsome, yes, he suited her well. It was just a shame for her that it couldn’t possibly last. 

 

“Yet, you’re still thinking of it. You’re wondering if she would act on your warning, or if she would follow her own instincts and listen to me instead. We could put it to the test, if you’re that confident she wouldn’t be a little curious to know what you really are.” he said, almost tauntingly half-sung. 

 

As much as he disliked hearing that, he had a point. What was to stop her from listening to him? They had spent a decent amount of time together, and she was far too trusting. That left only one way to deal with this, he had to find a way to convince the man to hold his tongue on the matter. Killing him was no option, nor was informing the Commander on the matter. Lavellan was the ultimate authority here, and no amount of pushing the issue would change the fact that  _ she _ was the one responsible for dealing with him. 

 

“And what is it that you want?” he growled. 

 

He laughed. It was like he was begging to be blackmailed. What lengths would he go to just to make sure his precious secret stayed buried? There was a list of things anyone else might ask for, freedom, more comfortable living arrangements, strong drinks, better food. Hell, he was in a position where he could even insist on the Inquisitor’s  _ personal _ attention, the problem was that he was quite content with the way things were. He was not dead, he had someone to talk to, someone who saw fit to take care of him and ensure his basic needs were met. She had even brought him some fancy Orlesian dessert and a glass of wine on one occasion. He had nothing he could reasonably ask for. The idea that he  _ could _ make such demands was interesting though, and for that reason, he thought to play with him a little. 

 

“What do you think I want?” he challenged. 

 

“What anyone in your place would want. You want out. I cannot do that.” he answered flatly. 

 

“Perish the thought, I’ll wait as long as I must to get out. I’ve got nothing but time.” he hummed. 

 

Solas eyed the tight binds holding his hands together. They had even bound him at the legs, as if he might somehow get up and run away. The stories claimed he was powerful, and even a beginner mage might figure out how to escape the shackles on their own, the lack of a staff meant precious little to one who could use their whole body as a weapon. By that logic, the cell door was as protective as wet parchment, and yet he had made no attempts to free himself. He really was there of his own free will. 

 

“Her?” he asked, more to himself. 

 

She was his, there was no way she’d be weak enough to give in to him in such a way. That was a thought. He could simply show him that he was in no position to make demands of anyone, least of all him. Hurting him wasn’t possible, but there was yet another option, and all it required was a few hours of waiting. 

 

“I will return. I believe I know what you want.” he said, an expert lie. 

 

“Very well. Don’t take too long, never know what I might say, should she return.” he said with a laugh. 


	2. Chapter 2

Solas adjusted the sleeves of his borrowed gear. Dressed like a guard, he blended in, though the rest had cut off for the night to go drink and presumably pass out. No worries about Lavellan showing up either, she had already turned in for the night. He wandered in, looking down at him, attempting to sleep, though the bed left much to be desired. Turning the key he had managed to get ahold of, he stepped in, closing it behind him. He drug the chair in his cell over, taking a seat. Nudging his side with his foot, the man sat up quickly, his attention immediately drawn to him. 

 

“What’s with that get-up?” he croaked sleepily. 

 

“I thought it a possibility I might be here a while. Better to blend in and be ignored than to stand out and draw suspicion.” he answered. 

 

Solas bent down, unlocking his shackles and cuffs. He was delusional if he thought he could slip past him, and he suspected he knew that much. This was just a mercy, letting him relax while he was here. Anders heaved a sigh of relief, immediately massaging his wrists and ankles. Lavellan had been allowed to unlock only his handcuffs, and even then, if a guard was present, he still had to deal with tight, uncomfortable ropes that rubbed his flesh raw. 

 

“To what do I owe this kindness?” he wondered. 

 

Anders rubbed his eyes, chasing away the last bits of sleep, sweeping a hand through his hair. He might have assumed it was her doing, but she was not present, and he would not need the disguise if it were her words he was acting on. 

 

“You and I need to have a little chat.” he said, tossing the helmet to the side. 

 

“Since you went to these lengths to come and see little old me, it’s the least I can do.” he said pleasantly. 

 

Solas peeled off the gloves, dropping them. He grabbed him by the collar, drawing him closer. His eyes narrowed, like he was searching for something hidden on his face, though he said nothing at first. Anders spared him the trouble, grinning widely, staring right at him, unflinching. 

 

“They said I was a monster. Looking at you, I think you’re just like me. You’re barely controlling yourself right now, and yet I can’t tell what has you so upset.” he taunted. 

 

“I want to know what your intentions are. What did you do to her to make her abandon every ounce of sense she has? What do you plan to tell her?” he demanded. 

 

Anders leaned a little closer, scarcely an inch from his face. “Wouldn’t you just  _ love  _ to know? What do you imagine in that funny little head of yours? Do you imagine I mean to steal her from you? It would be a mercy, I assure you. Will I tell her? If I did, I might earn my freedom, and instead of quitting this place, perhaps I’ll stay here, put myself to good use, at her disposal? Will the rebel abomination take my place?” he said mockingly. 

 

He cringed at that, he hadn’t thought of that at all, but now that he had said it, it was fresh on his mind. He never denied to himself that he would eventually only cause her pain, but still, the very idea was upsetting. It was possible he was serious about such a thing, to tell her the truth where he had kept it secret, and by doing so, cause him to lose her trust and take his place. Not just that, but he could not retaliate without her reacting negatively, he had to do  _ something _ , however. There was something he had to be after to hold this over him, and without knowing what he wanted, the only way he could fight back was to beat him at his own game. It was a crude plan, one he was not particularly enthusiastic about, but it could work. 

 

His hand clasped firmly on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. His eyes shot open, trying to push him back unsuccessfully, giving in to the sudden barrage of lips and teeth. Anders clutched the front of his coat, skillfully ignoring the voice of protest echoing through his mind. The warmth of his kiss vanished, leaning back in his seat again, arms folded behind his head. It took a few moments to realize what he was playing at, it was a trap, and he was falling for it. If he wanted to continue, he had to take charge, knowing that if anyone walked through that door and saw it, he’d be in more trouble than he was prepared to handle. Maker forbid  _ she _ actually walked in, that would be much worse, and yet, even with the promise of trouble, it was tempting. 

 

“Well? Not interested then?” Solas asked, raising an eyebrow in emphasis. 

 

His hand grasped his throat loosely, meeting his lips once more, forceful enough to press his head back slightly. He felt the sharp inhale, knew he had stolen his breath, and even still, his hands crept up the back of his coat, his fingers cold on his spine, but not unpleasant. Strangely, his touch was much gentler than he would have thought him capable of, especially considering how far he had pushed him. Anders let up on his throat, sweeping his thumb along the center, warm energy swirling in his fingertips, raising goosebumps along the elven man’s skin. Good to see he hadn’t lost his touch over the years he had spent on the run, and in truth, it  _ had _ been far too long. The question in his mind was how much of this was truly a power struggle, and how much was curiosity? There were easier ways to keep that secret buried, and he suspected he knew that. Breaking the kiss, he tugged at the front of the gaudy garment, tilting his head. 

 

“You have your answer, why not lose the disguise now. Let’s see what the beast of legends really looks like.” he said. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>; I was told a kiss would be enough, and yet, I can't resist a chance to add in some smut. So. Smut is next.


End file.
